August (13 page)

He was running hard behind me. He was fit and lean and probably stronger than me, but I was running for my life, and Gabbi’s life too. My feet were pounding down the street. I had to shake him off my trail, but couldn’t see any openings, or lanes to turn down. Ray was gaining on me.

From out of nowhere, Winter suddenly
materialised
in front of me. She ran straight past me, in the opposite direction, and seconds later I heard a big thud, followed by Ray’s angry
shouting
and swearing.

A quick glance behind me showed Winter and Ray scrambling on the floor.

Winter’s profuse apologies and Ray’s
shouting
faded into the distance as I escaped.

I made my way back to Winter’s flat and was
surprised
to see that she’d beaten me back there.

‘Poor Ray,’ she said. ‘Every time he tried to get up, I seemed to slip again. I just kept saying “I’m so sorry, I’m such a klutz!”’

‘He almost had me. You saved my skin.’

‘Told you I’d be useful. So how did it go?’

‘Good, I hope.’ I told her about the freaky owner of Fortescue House, Ma Little, and our brief conversation. ‘I wasn’t even sure if she really was a woman. She was so big and had this really deep voice. Anyway, she said she’d pass on my message.’

‘I guess we just have to wait,’ she said. ‘And hope she comes through.’

21 AUGUST

133 days to go
…

More days had passed without a word from
anyone
about Gabbi. Sharkey told me to be patient while waiting to hear from Ma Little. But it was tough. I was constantly fighting off thoughts that my sister had been killed, or had died because she wasn’t being cared for properly.

Winter’s search for information at Sligo’s properties hadn’t turned up anything
interesting
–no unusual purchases, no suspicious activity.

Boges was keeping a watch on Oriana de la Force when he wasn’t at school, and I scoped out her place whenever I could, too, but it was quiet there. Nothing out of the ordinary.

I was in the middle of checking my blog when Winter returned. I’d been trying to ignore the constant news headlines with updates on the
number of days since Gabbi went missing–I couldn’t bear seeing another mention of ‘grave fears for her safety’.

This morning Winter had gone to Sligo’s car yard again to watch what was going on from afar. She rushed through the doorway in a blur and flung her bag onto her bed, before plonking down cross-legged beside me.

‘I thought Zombie had come back from the dead!’ she said, wide-eyed. ‘I was hiding inside a wrecked car body, monitoring the place, when this guy in a four-wheel drive rolled into the yard. When he climbed out of the car I almost choked! He was the spitting image of Zombrovski!’

‘What?’ All of these doubles were sending my sanity into a spin.

‘Sligo comes out of the building to meet him, and it turns out this guy is Zombie’s brother! Zombie Two! And I reckon this guy’s even bigger and uglier!’

I swore, dreading what this meant for me.

‘Sligo was looking for a replacement,’ said Winter, ‘and now he’s found the ultimate recruit–someone who’s swearing vengeance on the psycho kid who killed his brother.’

‘I didn’t kill Zombie. He killed himself. The bell he’d swung to crush me ended up knocking him out of the tower.’

‘Cal, I know.’ Winter touched my hand briefly as if to tell me I didn’t need to explain myself to her. ‘Sometimes karma takes a long time to catch up with you, but I guess for Zombie it happened almost instantly.’

I stared blankly at the floor.

‘There’s something else, too,’ said Winter.

‘Oh, no, what is it?’

‘You’re going to have to move back to the beachside mansion for a while.’

‘When? How come?’

‘Sligo said something about bringing over a new desk for me. I don’t know where it’s going to fit … but he hasn’t given me a time or a date, so I don’t think it’s safe for you here right now. I’ve already talked to Boges, so he knows all about it.’

I started grabbing all my things together.

‘Don’t look so sad,’ said Winter, touching my hand again. ‘I’ll try and get over to see you whenever I can.’

‘Dude,’ said Boges, ‘I checked out the
undertakers
’ place again, and spotted that casket with all the angels and flowers on it, but I couldn’t get
a look inside it. The salesman was really
suspicious
and I had to leave.’

‘I doubt if the Riddle and the Jewel would still be in there,’ I said.

We were sitting at the kitchen bench, back in the Crystal Beach mansion, devouring hot meat pies. Boges had met me outside so he could let me in again and supply me with a new key.

‘Look,’ he said, showing me his phone. ‘A
message
on your blog from that guy Griff.’

‘What the heck’s he after?’ frowned Boges.

‘I don’t know, but I can’t call him. I don’t even have his number any more.’

‘I think I might have added it to my phone at some stage,’ said Boges. ‘Hang on, here’s another message from him.’

‘He knows something about Gabbi!’ I said, excitedly.

Boges’s face showed that he was completely unconvinced.

‘I know I swore I’d never have anything more to do with him, but this changes everything!’ My friend was looking at me like I was a fool. ‘Dude, I have no leads, whatsoever. Nobody’s come through with anything! Why wouldn’t I take this chance?’

‘Nobody’s come through with anything
yet
.’

‘I can’t waste any more time. Can you please give me his number? I have to find out what he knows. Even if it turns out to be nothing.’

22 AUGUST

132 days to go
…

The address Griff had given me over the phone earlier turned out to be an old timber
building
, which probably once had a view of the sea, but was now surrounded by tall buildings and apartment blocks. I made sure it had a number of exits in case I needed to make a hasty retreat from what I knew deep down was a potentially dangerous meeting.

I found room eleven and knocked on the door, adrenaline rising, ready to sprint if I needed to.

‘Come in!’ Griff called out. I opened the door quickly and found him lounging on the floor, playing a video game. ‘Hang, on, just pausing it,’ he said.

He jumped up, a big grin on his face. Above his freckles, his hair was spiked up in a row of peaks, reminding me of a stegosaurus.

‘Good to see you! I wasn’t sure if you’d really come.’

‘I’ve only come for my sister.’

‘You’ve come to the right man, Cal,’ said Griff, checking his row of spikes in the mirror. ‘Or should I call you Tom?’ he added with a smirk. ‘Aunty asked me to find you.’

‘Your aunty? I thought she kicked you out.’

‘She did. But she realised I’m quite a helpful kind of guy. She’s the one who has information for you.
Mouse
.’

‘About Gabbi?’ I asked, confused. ‘How come your aunt knows about that?’

Griff switched off the video game and picked up his wallet and keys. ‘My aunty knows everything that goes on in the city. She runs a well-known boarding house.’

‘A boarding house? Is your aunty kind of … big?’ I asked.

‘Big? She’s huge! Two metres tall!’

I couldn’t believe it, his aunt was Ma Little! ‘I thought you said she was young?’

‘Well, she’s younger than my mum, is what I meant. Anyway, she sent me out looking for you to give you the name of a police informant, Dr Leporello. He’s agreed to act as the
go-between
–between you and the people who’ve kidnapped your sister. Apparently, he will pass
messages backwards and forwards.’

‘A doctor?’ I said. Did that mean someone was looking after Gabbi? ‘But why didn’t she just pass that information onto Nelson Sharkey?’

‘Is that the ex-detective?’

‘Sharkey’s the one who sent me to Ma Little in the first place.’

‘I think she wanted to keep him out of it, until it’s time to pay up, of course.’ Griff rubbed his fingers together. ‘Anyway, let’s go. I’ll take you to Leporello.’

I followed Griff along the streets, my new hoodie covering most of my face, hurrying to keep up with him. I couldn’t wait to find out whether Gabbi was OK, but I was ready to run at the slightest hint of a double-cross.

‘I saw your poster in the cop shop,’ said Griff, as we hurried along.

‘What were you doing in the cop shop? Caught trying to steal cars again?’

‘Just a little misunderstanding that needed clearing up,’ he said. ‘You realise you’re a very valuable commodity–I mean to anyone who might turn you in.’

I stopped in my tracks. ‘Are you suggesting you might do that? Because if you are, I’m going
to have to take action to protect myself.’ I made myself look as threatening as possible. I was a good head taller than Griff now, and much tougher, I knew that.

‘Hey! Cool it! Who’s talking about turning you in? I’m no rat!’

We resumed our hurried pace, me following him.

‘I don’t like traitors,’ I said. ‘And I don’t like guys who attack women in carparks, either.’

‘Hey, go easy. Don’t you remember that I helped you that day? I’m on your side.’

‘Really? Still mates with Three-O? Do you know he almost killed me by locking me in a freezer? All for the reward money?’

‘I’m nothing like him. Let me prove you wrong. I’m basically a good guy. Anyway, we’re here,’ said Griff, pointing across the road. ‘That’s his place over there.’

Dr Leporello operated from a semi-detached cottage that had been made into a small
fortress
. Steel bars completely enclosed the front verandah–with a steel gate over the front door. A muscly man paced up and down the enclosed area, smoking. As soon as he saw us, he paused, glaring at us menacingly through the bars. He wore a dark-grey charcoal suit, and an
open-necked
brown shirt, and I couldn’t help being reminded of a bad-tempered gorilla in a cage.

‘Rack off before I set the dogs on you,’ he growled as we approached the steel gate. Some dogs started barking, as if on cue, but I couldn’t see where it was coming from.

‘We have an appointment to see Dr Leporello,’ I called. ‘He’s expecting me.’

‘That’s right,’ added Griff. ‘Ma Little sent us.’

The guy glared at us for a few moments, before disappearing behind the front door. He re-appeared a few moments later and wordlessly beckoned us down a dark hallway.

‘Come right down,’ another voice called from further down the hall. ‘The last door on your right.’

Griff and I hesitantly walked down until we came to the fourth door. It was opened by a stooped man in a black woollen cardigan. He wore very thick glasses, and his long white hair was tied tightly back from his high forehead in a skinny ponytail.

‘Dr Leporello?’ I asked.

‘I am he.’

He ushered us in and we looked around in wonder. The room was very dark apart from isolated pools of light, illuminating botanical specimens under glass. The atmosphere was humid and smelled like wet earth and leaves after rain.

‘I was informed you were coming,’ said Dr Leporello, waving his hand.

I couldn’t help staring at the mushrooms in the glass cases and wondered what on earth he had them here for. He must have seen my
puzzled
expression. ‘I am a leading expert on deadly mushrooms,’ he explained. ‘Here are three fine specimens.’

On a piece of rotting timber, lit from above, and in a temperature-controlled glass case, three big mushrooms with pale greenish-white caps were growing.

‘My favourite,’ said Dr Leporello, gently tapping the glass case. ‘
Amanita phalloides
, the Deathcap Fungus. A very tricky killer. They taste quite nice but after about eight or so hours, you’ll get an awful tummy ache. Then you’ll feel better and think you’ve just had food
poisoning
. Three days later, when you have completely forgotten about your “food poisoning”, you drop dead. A marvellous little killer, that one.’ He swished his white ponytail around and peered at the mushroom through his thick lenses.

‘I’ve been told you can help me connect with the people who have kidnapped Gabbi Ormond,’ I said. I wasn’t here to find out about mushrooms. I was hoping this doctor was the kind who could look after Gabbi, but it didn’t look like it.

Dr Leporello loomed closer, and as he did, I saw that his skin had the same whitish-green tinge as his three prized mushrooms.
Instinctively
, I moved back from him.

‘My aunt said you’d help my friend Mouse,’ Griff patted me on the back, ‘get a message to the kidnappers.’ Griff’s eyes moved to one of the other glass cases, where a huge red mushroom with white spots, like those in fairytales, was growing.

The peculiar man turned to another case, where a tall white mushroom leaned towards the glass wall. ‘And this is one of the Death Angels,
Amanita virosa
. Isn’t she beautiful,’ he sighed.

‘I’m afraid we’re not here to talk mushrooms.’

‘I called my eldest daughter Amanita, and my youngest I called Galerina, after
Galerina
autumnalis
, another glorious specimen.’ He sighed, completely dismissing what I’d just said. ‘You know, I do miss those girls.’

Dr Leporello picked up a piece of paper. ‘One must be very careful,’ he said, ‘when going
mushrooming
. Every mycophagist needs to know what they’re doing.’

‘My cough-a-what?’ asked Griff.

‘Mushroom eater,’ he explained, disdainfully.

I was frustrated by this creepy old man with his white hair and his white skin and this
collection
of killer mushrooms.

‘A girl is being held by kidnappers,’ I said. ‘I was told you would help me. Was I given the
correct
information, or not?’

Dr Leporello chuckled. My nails dug into my palms as I clenched my fists in anger, but before I could say anything, he started reading from the piece of paper he’d picked up. ‘My instructions are these,’ he said. ‘You are to call this number.’

I snatched it from him and was about to make a call when suddenly the room was plunged into darkness.

‘Hey! What’s going on?’ I yelled. ‘Griff, what’s going on?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said, his voice just as urgent and panicked.

‘Luminous mushrooms,’ Dr Leporello’s voice came from the corner of the room. My eyes scanned for him. ‘Automatic lights. On a timer,’ he said. ‘Have a look at these.’

On the other side of the room, I could see a greenish glow coming from a cluster of
mushrooms
. The doctor’s face was lit up ghoulishly just centimetres from it.

‘Mouse,’ called Griff from the doorway. ‘We have what we need, let’s go.’

I hurried after him.

‘What’s the rush?’ Dr Leporello called after us. ‘Where are you going, boys?’

‘Getting the hell away from you, fungus face,’ muttered Griff, as we hurried out through the front door.

The barking dogs started up again as the muscly guy out front opened the grilled gate to let us through.

‘That Leporello guy looks like one of the living dead,’ said Griff, as we sprinted across the road. ‘Like something from a zombie movie. But at least we have a phone number. You should make that call now. Do you think he made deadly mushrooms on toast for his daughters?’

Before I could answer him, the back doors of a large roadworks van that had been parked on the roadside suddenly flew open and helmeted riot police, complete with shields and batons, spilled out, yelling and charging at me.

I turned, almost skidding over, and raced away.

The street exploded in brilliant lights,
throwing
my shadow along the footpath ahead of me as I bolted away. Behind me I could hear thudding feet.

‘Stop! Police! Stop!’